Somebody Call Me Sebastian
by Sincerely LuLu
Summary: They both want someone they can't have so they've turned to each other and other things. Freddy/Summer at first. Oneshot.


**Pairing: Freddy/Summer and almost Freddy/Zack.  
Rating: M.  
Warnings: Mentions of drug use and excessive use of the word fuck, because it's my favorite.  
Disclaimer: School of Rock isn't mine, I'm just borrowing the characters because I think they're adorable. The title is from the song Sebastian by Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel so, that's not mine either.  
A/N: Uh, sorry this is kind of stupid. The whole plot is based around the above mentioned song so that's why the title doesn't really make sense but I really can't think of a better one. If anyone has any good ideas let me know! I suck at characterization and dialogue, btw so sorry.**

**Somebody Call Me Sebastian  
**

His hands run through her hair as they lie tangled in the sheets. A dim candle burns on her bedside table and the light smell of incense permeates the room. He doesn't speak her name because he doesn't think he can remember it. She doesn't speak either and no matter what just happened he can't manage to find the right words. They lay in silence until she moves from the bed and picks up her clothes. He follows suit and they sneak through the house and out and down the road. They go away from her house and just keep going.

The finally reach a park and she sits on the swings. He doesn't recognize the place but everything looks different in the dark. He talks quietly and knows he's not making any sense. He doesn't think he could make sense even if he tried. She speaks back and they stare into oblivion. They don't talk about him. They don't talk about what they're trying to escape and what they can't seem to stop going after.

He's in her bed again and a name he doesn't recognizes passes through her lips. He doesn't care. He just continues to thrust, thrust, thrust. He gets lost in the rhythm and as the moonlight trickles through her windows he closes his eyes and keeps going. The same name that passed through her lips is falling off of his. They don't speak of it because everyone knows they belong together.

Her eyes sparkle in the midday sun and as he pushes her further into the mattress he barely notices that no words or sounds are coming from her lips. He doesn't notice that this time her reactions aren't the same. When he finishes and looks down at her she's crying. He doesn't want her to cry. Oh God, that's the last thing he wants. He kisses a tear and moves a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Baby," he whispers, "what's wrong?" She starts speaking so quickly that he can barely keep up but he listens and as she continues his mind gets more twisted. She speaks in phrases and fragments and talks of how they're only using each other as a replacement for what neither of them can have. She continues on about how that's okay and how, really, as long as the rest of the world doesn't find out that in their minds they aren't fucking each other but rather the same other person that they're relationship is completely and totally normal.

He just nods and tries to unscramble his mind. He pulls a baggie from his jean pockets and asks her to come away with him. Just one trip, he tells her, just one kaleidoscopic stroll through the park.

So, they get dressed up and they go out and they play. They go to his shows and they go to her family functions and it's all so classy. The drummer boy and the class princess run around town. They talk to very few and when he's around they barely talk to each other. Both of them do anything to try and warrant his attention. He never notices though and they just continue floating around. Playing grown-up and trying not to fall apart.

He doesn't think anyone knows but he hears the whispers. He hears the way people stare when they walk through the hallways, holding hands and talking to no one, not even each other.

He watches her as well as he can from behind his drum set on stage. She's standing near the club's bar and the dim light is casting shadows over her face. She's standing there with a beer in hand chatting up some older guy and he knows she's ready to go but he can't leave yet. Just one more song, one more fill, and they can get out of there. Not before though, he can't leave before because Zack needs him. His pretty little guitar boy needs him and there isn't any being in heaven or hell that could take him away when he his Pretty Little Guitar Boy needs him.

He watches as the different shades of white on her face burn with a blush and how her glitter make up has started to shine brighter than her eyes. Another girl comes up though and when the older male ignores her voluptuous, more than likely over-priced body, he knows he's got some trouble. He can't face competition because she's only thing keeping him sane.

He watches her walk arm and arm out of the club with the older male and he feels his heart smashed to pieces all over again. He didn't realize he had started to feel something akin to love for the little slut. His Summertime Breeze just blew a hole straight threw his heart. He knows his drumming is off and he can feel his Pretty Little Guitar Boy's eyes questioning him but he just can't take it. Every beat on the snare is like is a beat on his already impaled heart.

After the show, after it's over, he walks off stage and to the bar. They don't card and they don't ask. They just hand him a beer and then leave him alone because they already know, he's looking to score. He doesn't get a chance though because before he knows it his Pretty Little Guitar Boy's arms are around his waist and his lips are close to his ear and he doesn't know if his Pretty Little Guitar Boy even knows what he's doing to him.

"Freddy," his Pretty Little Guitar Boy breathes, "you don't need that shit."

Freddy just shakes his head. Yes he does, yes he does fucking need it. He needs it so he can keep his head screwed on straight when Pretty Little Guitar Boys decide they want to start playing mind games. He doesn't know he's spoken but his Pretty Little Guitar Boy is responding.

"Fuck, Freddy, stop it with that shit. It fucks you up and if I didn't like you with Summer then why would I like you on cocaine? There was never a time that I didn't want you. You just never took your face out of Summer's for long enough for me to fucking tell you. So, now she's gone probably off to get some fucking STD and I'm trying to tell you what I'm fucking thinking and you're so fucking strung out that-"

Freddy wasn't listening. Freddy was staring at a spot near the door. Zack followed his gaze and there he was, Freddy's fucking dealer. Freddy began to walk over there but Zack just grabbed his arm.

"Freddy, I swear to fucking God, if you walk over there I will never talk to you again."

Freddy jerked his arm from Zack's grip and walked over to his dealer.


End file.
